Void of the Green
by Doffz
Summary: The summer before 5th year was not a good one. He will probably not survive. He knows blood. he knows pain and broken bones, and he will not fall. Not under Vernon nor under Voldemort. A 5th year AU, Gen so far. There will be Animagus and Sirius.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello to my first story! I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: So I'm not blonde, or fifty, or Rowling soo not mine... nuff said**

Harry woke up feeling cold, clammy and hungry. He blearily gazed at Hedwigs empty cage noticing that it wasn't blurred, he must have gone to bed with his glasses again. Harry wondered what woke him up, It might have been the loose spring that was digging into his hip. He shifted out of the way of the spring and felt his broken ribs grate against each other, he let out a hiss of pain.

_Maybe that was what woke me up _he tought, pondering the idea then dissmisig it _I__´m too used to sleeping with injuries for that _he concluded. So it was something else. Harry slowly looked around the small bedroom taking in the full shelves of broken toys, the shabby dresser, small desk with a small chair finally his gaze shifted to the locked window, for which he didn't have the key to, and there, on the other side of the glass was Hedwig, his snowy owl, with an envelope in her beak.

Harry smiled at the sight, his heart warming a little, he missed her greatly, and then his expression turned sad. ,, I´m sorry, girl I don´t have the key, we have to wait for uncle Vernon to let you in." She looked at him with a solemn expression and pecked the window one last time, before settling down to wait until morning. Harry meanwhile burrowed into the cowers more deeply willing the chill away. He remembers the time almost three weeks ago – on his first day _home _\- when uncle Vernon came to his room and announced that he is going to lock his window and check every letter Harry is going to send.

_Harry watched helplessly as his uncle locked his small window – his only contact with the wizarding world – and felt despair and panic welling up inside him. ,, Uncle. Don´t do this." he pleaded, and immediately shrank back a little as the fat man abruptly turned to him,, expecting the blow that came with it. His head snapped to the side. ,, Don´t you speak to me, you freak! You know why I´m doing this as much as I do, I won´t let you endanger my family by writing to that godfather of yours some sob-story! You will learn to do as you´re told or you will regret it! "He then delivered another slap across Harry´s face which this time send the boy barrelling to the wall and Harry was barely able to catch himself from falling. The man´s pig eyes were boring into the smaller body with disgust before he stomped out of the room, slamming and locking the door behind him. Harry stayed leaning against the wall a little longer waiting for the sting in his cheeks to subside, after a moment he pushed himself away and sat heavily on his dingy bed feeling exhaustion creeping up on him. He was already feeling like shite even before coming here, this definitely didn´t brighten his mood and he was sure that it will only get worse. He couldn't wait to see what a wreck he will be going back to Hogwarts for his fifth year._

Pulling his toughs back to present Harry contemplated his earlier thought that it will only get worse. _Oh, how true it was, _he tough to his second day at Privet Drive when he had accidentally spilt tea which he was pouring aunt Petunia. She claimed that he had burnt her hand – a fact he severely doubted since the tea was at best just warm – but it was apparently enough for uncle Vernon to bring out the belt, it was the first day of another summer in hell.

This year's summer was particularly brutal, uncle Vernon needed less reason to bring out the belt and the thought of one can of soup a day seemed a luxury. He could still feel the deep cuts on his back, which got akin to no medical attention and his weight was already in red area even with his slight height, but what was worrying him more than his permanent hunger and burning back was his diminishing energy, the waves of dizziness and nausea that were clear sights of malnourishment.

A shiver ran through him and he pulled the thin cower tighter around his bony shoulders wondering , not for the first time this summer, if he will actually live to attend his fifth year at Hogwarts.

_No _he tough _Voldemort was not able to kill me, I sure as hell will not let the likes of that fat pig off me, even if I had to survive on sheer will. _With somewhatrenewed determination he started drifting to sleep, ignoring the small voice of doubt whispering to him that just will alone might not be enough this time.

...

,, Wake up! Get your lazy arse out of bed and come down!" Aunt Petunia's voice was enough to bring nightmares and waking up from one with it was enough to give him night terrors. Like he didn't have enough of them already. ,, I'm coming!" his voice was rough from sleep and Harry waited a moment for aunt Petunia to clop away before sitting up, only to be overcome by a bout of sickness. He quickly threw his body sideways, away from the bed. It wasn't a good move, as his protesting brain suggested, but rather the water and stomach fluids end up on the floor than on his bed, it's easier to clean them that way. He leaned back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand frowning at the mess. Why was he sick? He couldn't afford to be ill. His condition was bad enough already, if he got ill it will surely kill him!

He quelled the growing sense of dread and forced himself to take a deep breath, it won't help him any if he had a panic attack now. He ignored the painful twinge in his chest and back. He started feeling his forehead gingerly, it was sweaty and his head hurt but he couldn't determine if his forehead was normal or his whole body was too hot. He was feeling hot yet chilli, plus he was sweating like mad. He must have a fever. Maybe he will be able to sneak out some aspirin.

,, Freak!" Harry jerked at his aunt's shriek, then promptly stifled a yelp as his ribs shifted. He stiffly stood on unsteady legs and made his way to the kitchen stumbling and swaying all the way down. Harry tough that he will surely fall down the stairs and was childishly pleased when he finally stumbled down the last step. It was pathetic really, but he had to get every little happiness he could in this place.

The kitchen was as cold and immaculate at it had always been, pictures of Dudley at every wall. Sometimes it was making Harry sick. Today, however, he was more focused on not falling on his face than on the repulsiveness of the Dursley's living quarters. Or on the equal repulsiveness of the whole Little Whinging's, even the name was disgusting. He was snapped from his absentminded musing by aunt Petunia shoving an old pan on him. He obediently started making breakfast, even managing to stuff a piece of stray bacon and egg into his mouth. It was probably all he would get to eat today. It certainly didn't help him much, by the time he finished Harry was feeling so tired and achy all over that he wondered how he was still standing. The dizziness wasn't helping either.

When he made his shaky way to the table he discovered a lumbering, whale like figure sitting behind it. Uncle Vernon was reading a newspaper, his moustache twitching in annoyance over something. Harry made a grimace of displeasure. He hoped to avoid his uncle today for as long as possible, nevertheless he continued his slow way to the table, trying to not look as weak as he felt, and gingerly put the plate of eggs and bacon on the table. The toast was already there. At least Petunia was doing something today.

,, Boy."

Harry grit his teeth at the sound of his uncle's voice. Today was not a lucky day for him, Harry decided as he turned to the man, hoping his trepidation was not showing. ,, Yes, uncle Vernon?" his voice was raspy and quiet. He sounded pathetic, and by the nasty smirk on his uncles face the man tough the same. Bastard. ,, Make sure you do all your chores for today before I come home." The notion that Harry was surprised by the threat was an incorrect one. He was shocked. He expected some kind of death or starvation (not that they were not doing that already) threat, not this warning. Suspicious. And there was a smug undertone to his words that unsettled him. He muttered a quiet affirmative and ducked slowly back to the kitchen heading straight for the counter on which he promptly slumped on.

Everything ached, his muscles, his bones, his head, even his eyes hurt. Merlin, and he was so tired and dizzy. Hunger was something he was accustomed to. At least he was able to think clearly, although a little slower. He put his head in his hands and leaned against them. It didn't help. A deep (and painful) breath later he pushed off of the counter and went looking for the chores list.

He found it right next to the refrigerator and found right away what was wrong with it. It was the way he said _all_ chores. Yesterday his chore list was one full page and he was barely able to complete it. This one was full one and half page longer.

...

Harry must have been staring, wide eyed at the nearly three pages of chores, for at least eight minutes until he had finally snapped out of it. He couldn't let hopelessness overwhelm him, he _had _to last until the end of summer, and then he will be free of them. He let out an unconvincing chuckle and pushing the despair, pain and everything else away from him, folded the pages neatly and stored them in his pant pocket. He did not realize that his hands were shaking.

...

It was as if he was walking in a dream. Everything was hazy and blurred with no clear outlines. His legs were wading through molasses, thick and sticky molasses. He was feeling hot, unfocused and his whole body was being wracked by shivers. The pain was almost secondary.

The fence he was currently repainting (a nice shade of green) looked as if he was doing zig-zag patterns on it. Harry had a fleeting tough that it looked quite original _If only I had any choice what it looked like _he tough bitterly. He was not even trying to paint the fence properly, he knew it was useless uncle Vernon will be home in fifteen minutes and Harry was not even on the half of the second page, he would get the belt whenever he painted it correctly or not.

So he rather decided to sit back and watch leisurely as nice green covered nice white, watched the sun rays play on his not-so-pale-anymore skin listened to birds singing and bees buzzing. In short, he enjoyed his last minutes of _freedom_ without the pain that surely awaited him. And it surely did.

**End of chapter 1.**

**Don't worry, uncle will get punched. **


	2. Chapter 2

**And I present you the chapter 2! Enjoy, and be cool X)**

**Disclaimer: See first chapter.**

For Harry the fifteen minutes felt both like an instant and an eternity, too long and too short at the same time. Amidst the chirping birds and sunlight it was all too easy to forget reality, but when it shattered with a screech of tiles and bangs of car doors, Harry half-wished that his peaceful stupor was not so easily broken. ,, Where are you, boy?" Harry could feel blood pulsing in his ears and the nostalgic resignation was once again creeping up his windpipe. He shuddered. It was no use trying to hide or run, it never helped anyway. His punishment always awaited him whenever he crawled out so he stopped trying ages ago, his last attempt being when he was nine years old after he had accidentally apparated on top of the school roof.

_He had been silent the whole car ride, like the Dursleys, tough he knew it was only because they were too furious to speak. They were going to kill him, beat him until he fell asleep and then he will not eat for weeks, locked in his cramped cupboard like every time he did anything freakish. Harry didn't want that, it had happened only a few times before and he dreaded it, dreaded the blood smelling darkness and fuzzy thoughts after every session. So Harry naturally tried to hide, even before the car completely stopped Harry was out of the door and across the front lawn pointing it towards the bushes in the back of the garden. He ignored his uncle's bellows to get back and instead took refuge in the biggest and bushiest of the bushes hoping that Vernon will not find him for a long time. It took three hours and twenty-two minutes to find Harry, and in that time Vernon only got more enraged, if that was possible. If Harry's punishment was not going to be horrible before, it was certainly going to be brutal now. Harry couldn't speak for three weeks until his jaw healed and every chew and swallow of the little food and water he did get was an exercise in pain, not to mention the weeks he spend alone in the dark cupboard. It was the second time Harry thought about ending his life himself, it would have been easy to just let his injuries bleed dry and sleep, but he persevered. It was also the first and the last time he tried to hide from the beatings._

Harry remembered this as if it had happened just a few days ago, like many bad memories do. There was a clatter as the garden doors opened, and Harry didn't even flinch, he just sat there and watched the dripping green paint. _I guess this is it, no stalling, time to face the judgment _as if he didn't know the verdict already _Guilty__!_The punishment _Pain and darkness plus the bonus of starvation__! _It was somewhat amusing, the whole gallows humor, but at least Harry found some humor in this wretched, warped, deranged house. He might have gone mad already without that.

,, There you are, you lazy waste of space!" Harry couldn't miss the badly hidden glee in his uncle's voice. He ignored the indignant tears of fear and injustice that prickled his eyes, _He knew__!__ He knew that I won't be able to complete it however hard I tried! And he still assigned it! _It was almost disturbing how much disgust welled in Harry's gut, but he didn't move an inch not even when he heard Vernon approach him, tough the bitten back cream couldn't be helped when Vernon kicked him. Right in his broken ribs ,, I told you to do all your chores today, did I not? So why didn't you mow the lawn? Clean the kitchen? Huh? Worthless! " the fat man was openly grinning now, the disgusting monster. Harry wanted to scream at the man that he had no chance of completing them, even if that only made it worse but in the end he was too tired for screaming, he just wanted to sleep. Everything was so fuzzy. So he rather opted for just lying there when Vernon bend down, grabbed his arm and started to literally drag Harry back to the house,, Thought so, you know you deserve this, you little freak!". He was still grinning as he hauled Harry up the stairs into his room. Harry didn't even try to resist, just tried to stumble along, the molasses his brain was swimming in were too thick to do much else.

_Oh, we are here _was the last thought he had time for before he was thrown into the room with the doors snapping shut. He managed to catch himself on the dingy chair and didn't get the chance to straighten himself before a meaty fist connected with his left cheek snapping his head painfully around. Soon another one landed on his right and then again left leaving his ears ringing and his vision double even if his glasses weren't thrown off long ago. His ribs were shrieking in protest. At least he managed to stay on his feet. It helped to focus on something beside the pain and he focused on staying on his feet and refuse to fall short of being tackled or falling unconscious. A feat he will probably accomplish sooner rather than later today, unfortunately his uncle had no qualms about beating an unconscious person. Another punch went to his abdomen and then a well, or badly aimed blow to the twice broken sixth rib made Harry's eyes roll up in his skull and his body to crumble like a house of cards. He hoped that Vernon will get quickly bored of his unresponsive body.

….

His unresponsive body took another twenty minutes of punches and kicks, but Harry managed to stay in his unaware state well into the middle of the night not having been forcibly woken to make dinner since he cooked some in advance. The punishment for not making dinner would have been much worse that not mowing the lawn, he had to get his priorities straight. Harry woke up on the floor aching and stiff with a mouth full of dried blood, for a few seconds contemplating crawling into his bed, no matter how uncomfortable, it was still better than the floor. After ten minutes of staring at the ceiling he started to roll around, carefully not putting weight on his more broken left side he braced himself on the seat of his chair and slowly, haltingly started to lift off the ground. When he got level with the desk he noticed something that was not there before, an envelope.

_Sirius. _His heart jumped with futile hope like every time he got a new letter, hoping against hope that his godfather was finally coming for him. _It probably won't be about that, Sirius is a fugitive he probably doesn't have any means of reaching and hiding me. Better not to count on that. _Harry finally dragged himself into the chair, shifting a little to alleviate the pressure on his right hip which landed weirdly on the seat. He flipped the light switch on his table lamp, knowing that it was too early for the Dursleys to even stir yet. Even though his vision was a little fuzzy around the edges and he felt like hell, Harry wanted to read his letter in peace, which on Privet Drive meant whenever the Dursleys were absent either in consciousness or body. He was happy enough that he even received the envelope, before Vernon often simply took them and burnt them but after Petunia pointed out that people might start to suspect something after the repetitive _I'm fine, everything is good, _answers without context, he stopped doing that but Harry cherished every letter he got.

He traced the familiar Padfoot scrawl on the back _For Prongslet from Snuffles _the codenames were nice, a shared secret, a little warm bond between the man he barely knew yet already loved more than any other adult, maybe because he never treated him like the child he never was. He knew real pain before he could talk and see winged dragon horses since he could remember. _Thestrals._ Harry supposed he could legally notice them now, after Cedric…. No! He won't think about him! Not now, not with Sirius's letter open before him. Speaking of which he painstakingly peeled the blue wax seal and pulled the actual letter out. Harry started to read, imagining the words said in Sirius's voice. It warmed him.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm happy to hear that you're alright it has been a while since I last wrote but Molly won't stop bugging us with cleaning the house there is hardly enough time to prank anyone! I'm hoping to manage to sic the twins at her, but no luck yet they're terrified of her! Not that I'm surprised but still! Moony would have my hide if I did it myself and trust me nothing is worth that kind of horror but oh the temptation! Maybe I'll do something small, charm her hair pink or maybe green, what do you say? Or maybe bleach blond that'll piss her off. I'll write you how it went, but enough about me how are you? Pranking your meatloaf of a cousin or the Whale-uncle? Yes, I had the twins tell me the story, shame on me. I know you wanted to tell me yourself but you'll tell me the really epic ones, capiche? Now I know you said not to worry about you, but since that is quite impossible, you know you can always owl me about your worries_

_Yeah right,_ Harry tough to himself _like I let Sirius deal with my kind of crap, he has enough on his plate already._

_tough you never do that, that's clear trait of Lilly in you! I'm not in the mood for nagging so let's just skip the part. Answering your earlier question sadly Dumbly is still a stubborn old goat and has refused to let you leave yet and the others agree the prats. I would be there from the start of summer but lo and behold the princess protests and shall the prince disobey? No, he shall not :( So here I'm. I hear Molly terrorizing poor Moony downstairs so I'm dashing to his rescue. Hopefully he still has all his nails intact (yes that actually happened)._

_Snuffles_

Harry just continues to stare dumbly at the _ridiculous _smiley face for quite some time, and then rereads the letter twice since there is always a risk of them getting shredded. His eyelids are heavier by the minute and he doesn't know if he can maintain the stiff posture for much longer. Rather than finding out he painfully relocates to the dingy bed and crawls under his blanket. He doesn't bother to strip his shirt, Harry too tired to even think much less undressing.

_I hope tomorrow will be less eventful Harry_ thinks to himself he even manages a quiet mental snort_ Yeah right._

Indeed.

**Here it is folks! Second chapter! Took me a while but I'm quite new to writing so sorry about that, need to get myself into the fray :) Love some feedback, bubs! **


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